


Pursuing Potter

by hereticalvision



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Comedy, Competition, Crack, Everyone wants Harry, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Matchmaker Pansy Parkinson, One Shot, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sex, Sex god trope, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticalvision/pseuds/hereticalvision
Summary: Half the wizarding world wants to shag Harry Potter. Maybe more than half. But Draco’s got the inside scoop on his newly-single status and nobody’s going to get between him and Potter’s pants!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 398





	Pursuing Potter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stephaniejoe84](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=stephaniejoe84).



> Another from the vaults! Written in 2013 for HD Tropes. Reposted in 2020 because it's funny and we need all the funny we can get right now.

“Draco!” someone snarled through the fireplace, finally loud enough that Draco fell out of his bed, awoken for just long enough from the crippling hangover which appeared to have taken over the left side of his skull to tumble to the ground.

“Nngh,” he said, never at his most articulate first thing in the morning. He was naked, sore, and sticky in a fairly pleasant sort of way, which meant that somehow he’d managed to pull even in his blackout drunk stupor. Draco congratulated himself even as he crawled towards the fireplace.

“Pans?” he said, gazing blearily into the flames. “What d’you want?”

Pansy glared at him. “Draco, I have been calling you for a solid ten minutes,” she hissed. “I am attempting to share privileged information with you, and you… are you naked?”

Draco looked down at himself. “Yes?” he hazarded.

Pansy made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. “Hangover potion, Draco.Now.”

“Can’t it wait?” Draco managed, clutching his head. What in blazes had he done to himself last night?

“ _No_ ,” Pansy shrieked at him. “We have a code Gold!”

Draco blinked stupidly at her. Then, “Potter’s single?”

Pansy smirked. “Glad I woke you now?”

Draco forced himself to stand, ignoring the ache in his limbs and his arse, the pounding in his head and the rush of blood to his cock. “I need my wand,” he said hoarsely.

“Draco,” Pansy said, wincing slightly, “I rather think you need to put it away.”

***

Draco had been preparing for this mission for several years of his life.

His interest began after school, after the war, when the frantic pairing-up amongst those few who survived had finally slowed down. There had been a firecall not too dissimilar to this morning’s: Pansy hissing gossip and Draco distracted by the remnants of booze and sex coursing through his system.

“Ginny Weasley just broke up with Harry Potter,” she’d said to him then.

At the time, Draco hadn’t been overly interested. “Really? Good lord, Pans, for anyone in particular?”

“You’ll never believe,” she said with relish. 

Draco raised an eyebrow in lieu of cajoling; he knew she would enjoy it far too much. “Probably not. Do you think I need a manicure?” 

“Oh Merlin, you’re no fun!” Pansy sulked. “I promise, it’s good.”

Blaise Zabini was indeed about as good as it could have been. Draco was convinced that it was a ploy at first, a way for Blaise to ingratiate himself with the new ruling classes, but then when he saw them together there was an expression on his old friend’s face he’d never seen there before. Blaise was… happy.

Anyway, that was hardly the point. The point was the exclusive piece in the _Daily Prophet_ related by “sources close to Miss Weasley”.

Pansy had actually come over that time so they could read it together and howl. Draco had some of his favourite excerpts memorised. Oh, there were inanities such as, _Harry is a wonderful man but he’s too much of a homebody and I feel like my adventures are just beginning_ and lots of dull hand-wringing over not wanting to hurt anyone. But then there was the delightful passage about halfway through the article: _Still, I will miss him and not just because he’s absolutely spectacular in bed._

“How would she even know?” Pansy laughed. “It’s not like she’s got a load of experience!”

Ginny Weasley didn’t, no. But Potter’s next conquest did: the older, wiser, prettier Katie Bell.

Draco didn’t much care for that type of girl, the nice girl-next-door-who-has-lots-of-sex. Even though he wasn’t an affirmed cock lover in those days, his female type had been, well, Pansy: a femme fatale who’d make you pay for every inch. Draco did love a challenge, no matter the plumbing.

But Katie Bell had been around and done things Ginny Weasley hadn’t even known about until Blaise. She was also too savvy to get it in the papers, but the chat around the pub was telling: Harry Potter? Lives up to the hype.

Potter was never promiscuous, but reports kept leaking. Haruka Endoh, the Japanese student, taught Potter some shibari. Roger Davies was a little startled to find himself in bed with a man, and even more startled by how much he’d liked it. Lee Jordan never confirmed or denied, but did get a hell of a dreamy look on his face.

And then, right around the time Draco was beginning to pay attention, to wonder if Potter really could be that good, to wonder if it would be worth pursuing…

Well, that was when Potter shacked up with Oliver Wood.

***

Hangover potion coursing through his blood, Draco pulled on his blue and gold robe and sat down in front of the fire, wand clutched loosely in his right hand.

“All right, Pansy, you have my undivided,” Draco said. “Potter and Wood have gone splitsville?”

“Where on Earth did you pick up that obnoxious phrase?” said Pansy. “Still watching those repulsive Muggle television shows?”

“No,” Draco lied.

Not fooled for a minute, Pansy ignored him and went on. “Yes, they split. Huge fight three days ago, both of them keeping it quiet until their publicists can agree on a story.”

“Three days ago?” Draco said dangerously.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “And I found out last night when Neville was leaving for the pub. ‘Cheer Harry up after the break up’ was all I got, and I would have told you that then, only you weren’t answering when I called.”

“I was at the Manor for dinner last night,” Draco said, dimly recalling. Brandy with Father and then off for drinks with… Malcolm Baddock? Hard to imagine that boy getting him into this state.

Irrelevant. “Continue. What was the nature of the fight?”

Pansy shrugged. “Neville knows I tell you everything he tells me, and I didn’t have time to extort it out of him with sex. He’s still passed out dead drunk at the moment,” she said with a sniff.

Given that Pansy had once drunkenly confided that half the reason she’d married Neville was because even after two years they were still on a twice-a-day sex schedule, Draco could only imagine that this disruption was not going down well with her at all.

“I see.” Draco thought for a moment. “So no details at all?”

“None,” Pansy said. “Sorry, darling. I can tell you that they’re definitely done though – Nev said that Weasley was all for stringing Wood up and Potter had barely talked him out of it.”

“Which Weasley?”

“Our King.”

“Of course,” Draco acknowledged. “Did your beloved say who else was at the pub?”

“Him, Weasley, Granger-Weasley, and I think Girl Weasley.”

“Seriously?” Draco straightened. “You don’t think she’d want to have another crack at Potter herself, do you? I mean, I could definitely see that Blaise wouldn’t mind a little ménage…”

“I doubt it, Draco,” Pansy said. “I think you’re likely to face stiffer competition…”

“Tacky,” Draco muttered.

“…from Terry Boot. That man has been desperate for even a sniff of Potter’s panties for years.”

“Oh, yes, him,” Draco said, remembering a certain athletic enthusiasm which had made for a very interesting long weekend, and a certain incorrect name blurted out at an inopportune moment. He scowled. “It wouldn’t get back to Boot straight away, would it?”

“Probably not,” Pansy acknowledged, “but you’d be as well to head it off at the pass. Your most immediate threat, I’d expect, will be Charlie Weasley.”

“Hot like dragonfire,” Draco muttered. “Didn’t know he was in the country.”

“Visiting for a few weeks, but who knows what he could accomplish in that time,” said Pansy. “He does have a certain _je ne sais quoi_.”

“Actually,” said Draco, “ _Je sais quoi. Deux fois._ ”

“Naturally,” Pansy said. “And then, of course, there’s Gabrielle Delacour.”

“Oh, yes, Revenge of the Veela,” said Draco sourly. “She always did fancy seeing if she could turn Potter back on to women. She’s a little young, don’t you think?”

“Older than you were when you got started,” Pansy pointed out.

Draco glared.

“Meet our four champions,” Pansy smirked. “Who will make it to the prize?”

“Do shut up, Pans,” Draco said, thinking quickly. It was nine in the morning, and a Thursday. Potter would definitely be in his office until around five. Assuming that none of the other three would be well enough informed to go down there during working hours, he should have enough time to turn each of them in a different direction and claim Potter for his own before any of them realised what had happened.

He looked at Pansy, who smirked at the expression on his face. “So?”

“Standard three-stage misdirect,” he said. “Can you help with initial distractions?”

She made a face. “I was rather hoping to wait until Neville…”

“Pansy!”

“Fine, fine,” she said, lower lip sticking out for a moment. “Have you decided who will be the first task?”

Draco looked down at himself again. He was looking ridiculously sexy today, if he did say so himself. “I rather think I have.”

*** 

**Charlie Weasley**

Strengths: Tattoos, sexy-dangerous job, hot like burning

Weakness: Easily distracted, especially by that ridiculous Gryffindor sentimental streak

Charlie Weasley was not a man who could sit around idle. He might have been technically on holiday from his work in Romania, but Draco knew he wouldn’t be sitting around doing nothing during his days off, not even taking a lie-in. He was always up at six o’clock sharp, exercising to keep his arms strong for the work with the dragons.

It stood to reason then that he’d be the only one of the three to be awake at this ungodly hour. He’d either be spending time with his parents or looking after his young nephews and nieces.

Draco took a chance on the latter. He could hardly turn up uninvited at the Weasley family home after all, but if Charlie was taking some of the kids to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes then Draco would have every reason to be wandering along Diagon Alley and just ‘happen’ to ‘bump into’ him.

It was only half past ten when his patience was rewarded.

“Charlie!” Draco said, pinning on a winning smile. “How delightful to see you again.”

Charlie had a small strawberry-blond child on the end of each arm, obviously the offspring of the eldest Weasley and the elder Delacour. Extremely attractive people, both, and Draco took a moment to study the children’s faces: both likely to grow up pretty. As it should be.

“Draco,” Charlie said, half-pleased, half-puzzled. “Isn’t it a little early for you?”

“It is, rather,” Draco agreed with a languid shrug. “But you know, business.”

“You work now?” Charlie said, confused. He was distracted by a tug on his hand. “Yes, Victoire?”

“Can we go into the shop now, Uncle Charlie?” she said, quiet but distinct.

“Sorry,” Charlie said to Draco. “I have to…”

Draco was not about to let the chance slip away; he bent down, eye to eye with Victoire. “Hello, little one. I am Draco Malfoy and you are?”

Victoire stared at him a little and offered her hand, mumbling something.

“Very nice, and your… sister?” he hazarded.

“Dominic,” said the voice, though it could have been Dominique and frankly Draco didn’t really care that much.

“Delightful. Tell me, have either of you seen a Sneakoscope before?”

Victoire took it and giggled when it started to hiss. Once the children were safely distracted, Draco turned his attention back to Charlie. “I have a confession,” Draco said. “I came looking for you.”

Charlie snorted. “Yes, I worked out that there was something you wanted to say.” He folded his arms and Draco was distracted for a moment by the delicious bulge of his upper arms.

Concentrate, Draco. “More something I want to talk about,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “You know how the world gossips.”

“I know how _you_ gossip,” Charlie said dryly.

Draco could hardly deny the charge. “Well,” he began in a confidential tone, leaning in. For a moment he breathed in that masculine scent and almost became distracted – but no, he was pursuing a higher cause today. “I heard a rumour that Wood and Potter parted ways due to lack of common interest and you were, er, comforting Potter in his hour of need?”

“What?” 

Genuinely doesn’t know Potter’s single, Draco noted. “Good.”

“Good?” said Charlie.

Draco realised he’d let that slip – good lord, he was all over the place this morning. “I mean that there doesn’t seem to be any truth to it.” Significant pause. “Because there isn’t – is there?”

“No,” Charlie said.

“No, no,” Draco said, laughing at himself, “of course, you’d never do that to your sister.”

Charlie was frowning now. “Ginny’s happy with Blaise, she wouldn’t…”

“No, of course,” Draco said, waving his hand as though dismissing the unimportant. “You know her much better than I do, of course. It’s just that, well, women can be a little strange about their ex-boyfriends, you know?”

“I do know,” Charlie said slowly.

“So you can imagine – well, Pansy won’t let me go anywhere near the men she’s dated, never mind if I were actually her brother! Ugh, that woman has harangued me no end about how disrespectful that kind of thing would be to her. You’re lucky Ginny is a more reasonable sort of girl.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, utterly unconvinced. “Reasonable.”

Draco’s memory provided him with a helpful tableau of a Bat-Bogey Hex and he shuddered. “Indeed. Well, none of my business, I know, but…”

“You do love to gossip,” Charlie said, his mouth set in a straight line.

Draco smiled as winningly as he could manage. “It is a character flaw. In any case, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” Charlie said helplessly, and off he went, one child clasping each hand, no one remembering to give back the Sneakoscope.

Weasleys. Draco shook his head. It was almost a shame to take their money.

***

**Gabrielle Delacour**

Strengths: Ethereal beauty, reputation for discretion

Weakness: Excessive vanity

In a sustained military campaign, the best advantage is a strong ally. Which is one reason why Draco had made certain to stay close with Pansy for all these years. Standard Slytherin protocol.

Pansy had arranged to meet Gabrielle for lunch at Tore de Pants. When Draco arrived, Pansy was already chain smoking, her usual activity in lieu of actually eating, and Gabrielle was sipping a Pumpkin Pimm’s. The little tart.

When Draco approached the table, Gabrielle scowled. “So zis is why you inseest on meeting me today, Panzy?” she said.

“Stop that,” said Draco irritably. “We all know you can speak English perfectly well, and neither of us here finds that accent sexy.”

“Yes, you do,” said Pansy around an exhale.

Draco glared.

“Oh, well, if it’s just him,” Gabrielle said, her accent abruptly much more comprehensible. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“To bury the hatchet?”

“Try again,” she said without even blinking.

“To ask a favour?”

Gabrielle’s cupid’s bow mouth curved into a half-smirk. Someone less self-consciously ladylike would have snorted. “And why would you consider that you and I are on those terms?”

“We aren’t,” Draco said. “But I am in a position to foster closer relationships with you and with some of my patrons.”

“Your patrons?” Gabrielle repeated, bright blue eyes opening wide. “Forgive me, but what, exactly, is your job?”

“Job? How plebeian of you to ask. Just answer me this – you intend to be a fashion designer, correct?”

“Yes,” Gabrielle said, suspicious. 

“And who lands in the papers more often than I do? Who could wear your clothes more often and drop your name into more interviews than I?”

“Harry Potter,” she said with a smirk.

Damn the bint.

But it was moments like these when Draco fully appreciated the genius of Pansy Parkinson. “Potter?” she said and gave a burst of genuine laughter. “Potter as fashion icon? Gabrielle, darling, I think all that alcohol has pickled your brain.”

Gabrielle blushed a little. Draco had never understood why she looked up to Pansy but she did, and there it was.

“Bien,” she said. “So you suddenly want to help me? _Je ne crois pas. Don d'ennemi c'est malencontreux._ ” Don’t trust a gift from an enemy.

“All right,” Draco said with a sigh. “There’s no help for it. I want to be invited to more of your family events.”

Pansy’s eyes narrowed even as Gabrielle crowed, “I knew it! Why?”

Draco dropped his eyes to the floor. “I would rather not say.”

“But I would rather hear,” Gabrielle said.

Pansy reached out to pat his hand. “I think you’d best just tell her,” she said, her tone a little too sardonic for Draco’s taste and he reached up to catch her hand just a shade too firmly in response.

“It’s Charlie,” he said with a sigh.

“Charlie?”

“Yes. You must know we have a history and…”

“Ah!” Gabrielle said, face clearing. “ _Oui, je comprends tout._ ”

“I know the Weasleys have a party coming up soon,” Draco went on. He didn’t but it was a fair bet with all those birthdays. “I was so hoping to be there, maybe in something you’ve made, and…”

“You will pay me?” she cut in.

“Well above the going rate,” he promised rashly.

“You’ve only given me five days,” she warned.

Yes! Draco crowed inwardly. “Is it too little time?” he said sounding worried.

Gabrielle bit her lip, considering. “Not if I start today. Come with me, we will take your measurements. And then we will go to Gringotts, non?” Her eyes glittered.

Pansy snorted and took a long drag on her cigarette. “Honestly, if he didn’t like cock, I’d think you two were perfect for each other.”

***

**Terry Boot**

Strengths: Highly intelligent and therefore resistant to manipulation, soulful eyes

Weakness: Outright loon where Potter is concerned

The measurements and bank visit had taken until three. That only left Draco 2 hours to do something about Terry Boot and get to the Auror office.

"Quick and dirty, then," he said to himself. If Draco recalled correctly, that was the way Terry had always liked it.

Terry Boot had been a boy genius and a bookworm. Once he was of age and after a bit of restructuring post-war, Flourish & Blotts became Flourish, Blotts & Boot, and it was there Draco knew to look for him.

He hadn't been in ever since that name-shouting incident. He'd taken to ordering via Owl instead, considered it best for all parties – in much the same way he did when he had a hankering for goods from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Of course, in the latter circumstance, he also used an alias just in case.

He had gone in today, though, and it was armed with his latest toy that he walked into Flourish, Blotts & Boot.

Terry was behind the counter as always, all dark hair and glasses and lean lines. Draco reflected how narcissistic his attraction to Potter must be. "Terry," he said quietly.

Terry's head came up at once. "Draco," he said, discomfited. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Draco nodded meaningfully. "Well, our last encounter was certainly a little awkward," he said. "I wanted to talk about it."

Terry's eyes narrowed. "Why? You seemed fairly determined not to discuss it last time."

Draco winced as he recalled screaming at Terry and pushing him out of the Manor. "I was a little upset," he allowed. "You did call out another man's name while I was…"

"Yes, all right," Terry hissed, holding out his hand to get Draco to quieten down. "I know it was a little odd and I'm sorry, but…"

"Just tell me, Terry," Draco said as quietly as he dared, "are you having an affair with Potter?"

"No," Terry said at once. "No, he'd never cheat on Wood, he's much too loyal."

"But you want to be," Draco probed.

Terry looked at Draco for a minute before his eyes widened. "Holy hell, Harry's single."

"What?" Draco stammered. Damn, Boot was sharp.

"Harry's single and you want to move in on him," Terry said in an accusing whisper. "Well, let me tell you, you don't have a chance with him. Our love is real and once he realises it, there'll be a cottage in Devon, two black Labradors and a rose garden!"

Draco blinked in terrified awe. "Heavens, that's specific. Given that some thought, have you?"

"Every day for the past three years!" Terry said hotly.

Draco nodded slowly. He reached into his breast pocket and said, "Terry, have you seen one of these?"

Terry looked at the small blue pyramid in Draco's hand with no recognition.

Draco nodded and tapped it with his wand. " _Our love is real and once he realises it there'll be a cottage in Devon, two black Labradors and a rose garden!_ " Draco tapped it with his wand again and the voice stopped.

Terry's face went white.

"Now," Draco said in a friendly sort of way, "Guess who gets this nifty little device if you don't back off my man!"

He winced even as he said it. Definitely time to listen to Pans about those television programmes.

***

**Draco Malfoy**

Strengths: Sexy, experienced, grasp of advanced strategy, fabulous hair, snappy dresser, smooth, sophisticated, in control.

Weakness: Please.

Half past four, and Draco was feeling no pain. Three out of three competitors diverted, giving him a clear shot at getting into Potter’s pants.

“I’m here to see the Head Auror,” Draco said at the desk.

“Mr Potter is very busy,” said the receptionist, bored. “Name?”

“Draco Malfoy,” he said, ready to burst into an entirely fabricated account of why it was urgent and why Potter had to see him at once.

“Oh, yeah, you’re on the list,” the receptionist said, mystifyingly. “Go on through.”

Draco didn’t question his luck, instead choosing to rush through the main office where the majority of Aurors sat completing paperwork and straight to Potter’s office.

“Potter!” Draco said, bursting through the door.

There was Malcolm Baddock leaning over Potter’s desk chair in a deeply suggestive sort of way, eyes wide and dark, mouth wet and plump.

“Oh, hell no,” Draco snarled and without another word he had physically caught Baddock by the ear and was hauling him out of Potter’s office. “I did not put in a full day’s groundwork to have you pip me at the post!”

“Draco, what on earth-“ said Baddock as Draco propelled him away from the door.

“We may have been on a date last night but that doesn’t mean…” Draco began.

“Oh, what, the date you ditched me halfway through?” Baddock snapped. “I was not under the impression it meant anything to you, so the caveman act is a bit much.”

So it really hadn’t been Baddock who’d left the mouth marks on his thighs? Good to know. Also, perhaps in front of 20 curious Aurors was not the best place for this conversation.

Mercifully, Potter chose that moment to step in. “Malfoy, in my office. You can’t assault a citizen here of all places! Baddock, sorry, Applebee will take your statement now.”

“What?” Baddock began. “No, I…”

“Suck it, Baddock,” snapped Draco before sweeping masterfully into Potter’s office.

Baddock gave some kind of squawk but Potter said something soothing and then a moment later stepped into the office, closing the door behind him.

“Before you start, Potter,” Draco said, but he didn’t get any further before Potter had caught the front of his robes and hauled him into a kiss.

Draco had thought of what it would be like to kiss Potter many times. He’d considered factors such as raw passion, relative experience and desire. He hadn’t realised that Potter would kiss like a man starved, like he was tugging Draco into his very being. He hadn’t known that lips and tongue could do more than act as interesting prelude but could be used to make him want to beg, plead, just keep touching me, yes…

Except he had. He had kissed Potter before. This was all too familiar. What the…

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Potter breathed as he broke the kiss.

“Coming?” said Draco.

“I did say to come by any time today, but the day’s almost over,” said Potter.

“You… said…”

“Well, I left a note,” Potter said with a shy smile.

Oh. OH!

“I didn’t see the note,” said Draco weakly.

“Oh,” Potter said, and then he smiled again, rather shyly. “Well, that’s ok then. I was just a little afraid you would have been put off by all that stuff they write in the papers, you know.”

“What stuff?” Draco tried. He hadn’t… He couldn’t have…

Potter huffed out a laugh. “Don’t lie, you quoted it at me last night. All that stupid sex-god stuff.”

He had. He’d got blackout drunk, cornered Potter in the gents’ and…

“You’re telling me,” Draco wailed, “that last night I fulfilled the fantasy of years and got you to go to bed with me, but I was so drunk I barely remember any of it?”

“Er,” Potter said, “you don’t remember?”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned that. “Well…”

“But I do. That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not fair!” Draco agreed.

“It’s a little insulting, actually,” Potter said, withdrawing slightly.

“Right! I mean – what?”

“I have skills,” said Potter, looking a little upset now. “Everyone says so. The papers say so. I mean, I know you’ve slept with just about everyone…”

“Hey! That’s only,” Draco paused. “Mostly true,” he accepted with a wince.

“But the least you could do is bother to remember that I’m one of them,” Potter went on, aggrieved.

Draco had the unsettling feeling that this was about to run away from him. “Look I didn’t… not remember, I just didn’t remember and I know that sounds the same, but it’s not!” Damn it, Draco was smooth! Why did it always desert him when he needed it most?

Potter appeared to be thinking, as terrifying a prospect as that was. “So wait… you didn’t come in here and throw Baddock out because you knew you and I had already…” Potter waved his hand between the two of them. “You just decided you wanted me and you were going to have me?”

Draco’s mouth was flapping a little, he knew it, but as quick as he could usually think up a flippant response, just at that moment nothing was coming to mind.

Potter was staring at him now with what from anyone else he might consider a calculating look. “Well, all right, then,” he said. “But only because I wanted to do it again anyway.”

“Do it again?” Draco managed; it was that or risk sounding like an idiot under a Babbling Curse.

“ _Colloportus,_ ” said Potter, producing a wand from somewhere and waving it towards the door. “ _Silencio._ ”

Do it again right here and now, apparently. “Right, then,” said Draco, sitting back on Potter’s desk with his legs slightly open in invitation. “I’m not about to object.”

“Good,” Potter said, and before Draco could manage any kind of comment, his mouth was full of Potter’s tongue.

“Mmph,” came out before Draco’s brain caught up and he started to kiss back. Potter’s hand clasped the back of his neck while his other hand rested on Draco’s clavicle. The hard planes of his body, lithe and muscled, pressed against Draco from groin to chest and Draco sat back on the desk so he could wrap his legs around Potter’s body and pull him closer.

Draco knew he wanted Potter, he’d always known, but he hadn’t expected it to be like this. He was always just a little detached during sex, some part of him observing, noting reactions, determining how best to please. But Potter, while not doing anything special exactly, somehow had the effect of blowing all of this out of the water. Draco could only manage a moment of awareness before his mind was reduced to thinking _please_. He ran his hands over Potter’s back and thought, _please_. He tangled his fingers in Potter’s hair, breaking the kiss long enough to press his mouth to Potter’s throat, felt Potter jerk in reaction and thought, _please_.

He wanted everything all at once, couldn’t separate it all out. Wanted Potter to touch him everywhere. Sounds were pouring out of his mouth, moans and grunts that would have embarrassed him, but they were evoking a whine from Potter, who gasped and grabbed Draco’s head, pulling their mouth back into alignment until he could kiss him utterly insensate.

It was too much and not enough. Draco was pulling at Potter’s clothes before he knew it, not with any strategy but with a blind lust for naked flesh. Potter pulled at his just the same, working the robe open and pushing it back off Draco’s shoulders. There was no finesse, no well-developed skill set. Whatever it was that made Potter great, it came from somewhere within him, and Draco just snarled until Potter’s shirt finally opened and then pressed sucking kisses to his chest, trying to get closer.

Potter pulled back just a moment and Draco snarled again, lunging towards him.

“Wait,” Potter said, pushing Draco back just slightly. Draco stared at him in a haze, taking in the look on Potter’s face. Pupils huge, mouth bruised- Draco wanted him so badly. Draco leaned to kiss him but Potter said again, “Wait.”

Draco trembled a little but managed not to grab Potter right that second. It felt like an impossible victory won.

“Last night, you asked me to fuck you,” Potter said, brushing Draco’s hair from his eyes. “Is that what you want now?”

Yes, yes, that, anything, touch me everywhere. Draco couldn’t manage the words so instead he grabbed Potter and pulled him back into a kiss. Potter held onto him and Draco could feel his arm flailing, heard various items go flying off the desk but didn’t have time for more than a moment’s interest in Potter’s wandless magic before he was being shoved back on the desk.

Potter’s fingers were tugging at the lower half of Draco’s robes now. Everywhere he touched, Draco shivered. He’d never been so hard, couldn’t imagine ever being this hard again unless it was with Potter, Potter who stripped his clothes from his body and then bit his thighs. Draco looked down to see Potter looking up at him, glasses gone who-knew-where but his gaze focused as he stared at Draco’s cock.

“Hm,” was all the warning Draco got before Potter swallowed him down, sliding his mouth down to the base of Draco’s cock and pressing gently behind his balls with his fingers. Draco gave a gurgling cry and _writhed_. If he could have found his voice he would have begged, as Potter began to bob his head up and down, paying special attention to the head, working his lips over the top before sinking back down again to take Draco deep into his throat.

Draco had to reach over his head to grasp the edge of the desk or he would have lost his very sanity. He smacked his wrist into the edge once, twice, the sharp bloom of pain giving him enough clarity from the haze of pleasure to blurt, “Inside, want you, inside.”

Potter groaned and pulled his mouth off Draco and just looked at him for a moment, splaying his hands across Draco’s ribcage. “So perfect,” Potter said, bending down to tug a nipple with his teeth. Draco gave a choked sound, his cock beginning to leak.

Potter smirked at that and finally, finally undid his own belt and let his trousers drop. Draco tried to reach for him while he stood there for just a moment in ridiculous red underpants which didn’t make Draco want him any less, but Potter batted him away.

“Not yet,” he said, and then his hands were beneath Draco’s knees, drawing them up, placing them on his shoulders. Potter muttered something and slid two lubricated fingers inside Draco, who cried out raw and incoherent at the intrusion. His body remembered the night before even if he did not and gave way easily to Potter’s fingers. Potter smiled at him and gave his fingers just a little twist; Draco felt his cock jerk, and cried out again, closing his eyes tight in case it all became too much.

Apparently that satisfied Potter, as he withdrew his fingers and lined himself up against Draco’s body.

“Hey,” Potter said softly. “Hey, look at me.”

Draco forced his eyes open and met Potter’s gaze.

“You’ll remember this time,” Potter said, and with that, he drove deep into Draco’s body.

Draco cried out, of course, he couldn’t help it. His body was burning with sensation: Potter inside him, the heat and the strength of him as he fucked into Draco and pulled back, thrusting again and again, sending Draco higher and higher. Draco was dizzy, could barely breathe. Potter pushed forward from standing until he was almost flat on top of Draco, pushing his knees to his shoulders. Draco wasn’t quite that flexible and it hurt a little but that just made it better, somehow, more intense. Potter was gasping and staring right at Draco, and Draco, usually so detached, could do nothing but lie there. He couldn’t make his hands reach for Harry, all he could manage was to catch his own knees and keep them down, hold himself open for Potter to fuck them both out of their minds.

The heat was building, building, as Potter thrust into him again and again, his expression every bit as dazed with desire as Draco felt, and then like lightning down the spine Draco cried out again and felt hot come spurt out of him, covering his and Potter’s stomachs.

His spasms wrenched a fierce noise from Potter’s throat in turn and then at last, Potter began to shudder and shake and Draco could feel himself being filled up.

Yes, was his only thought. Yes.

***

It took a while before Potter could rouse himself enough to withdraw from Draco, a while longer before Draco wanted him to. By then it was well past going home time for the Aurors and Draco wondered idly how many of them had an idea of what had gone on behind their boss’s door.

Potter had kindly cast cleaning charms on them both and handed Draco his clothes while he tugged on his own. Draco, however, could still barely feel his limbs and was enjoying a little more afterglow.

“So,” Potter said, fiddling with his trousers.

“So,” Draco acknowledged.

“Memorable this time?”

Draco would normally have scoffed and said something abrasive but he just couldn’t this time. “Blew my mind,” he said. “Literally. Can’t think.”

“That’s a relief,” Potter said.

“A relief?” Draco repeated. “You know that everyone wants to shag you.”

Potter gave a pained little laugh. “Right, because of the papers. You know Ginny never said that. Any of what they put in the papers. But she wasn’t about to deny things that made me look good when she’d gone and dumped me.”

Draco frowned. “It was more than just she who said so.”

“Yeah,” Potter said ruefully. “Some people I thought I could trust and some I never actually touched. You’re only the fourth person I’ve slept with you know. And you didn’t even remember it. Between you and Oliver, I might have got a complex.”

Too many revelations! Too much gossip! Draco didn’t know how to take it all in! “Oliver…?”

Potter looked embarrassed. “We hadn’t had sex for a long time. And when we talked about it he said he was really sorry but he just wasn’t that into sex anymore. I knew it had to be me and he was just too kind to say so.”

“What?” Draco said. “Just… what? Potter-“

“Harry? Please?” Big green eyes looked at him beseechingly.

Draco’s lip curled. “Fine, Harry. Let me just say, I have slept with considerably more than four people, and that right there? That was the fuck of the year. Maybe the decade.”

Harry smiled shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Draco said. After all, it had been, and if Potter had given him that, the least Draco could do was give Potter’s self-esteem a little shine.

“So it wasn’t just a drunken accident?” Harry said, still uncertain.

Draco sighed. “This seduction was in fact the result of a very complicated scheme. I had to fight off numerous suitors for your favour.”

Harry had been buttoning up his shirt, but at that he shot Draco an amused look. “You’re making that up.”

“Am not,” Draco said at once, sitting up on his elbows to take in the details of Harry’s body again.

“Like who?” Harry said, inching towards Draco.

“Maybe… Terry Boot,” Draco admitted.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Harry said at once, taking another step. “You know he was stalking me?”

“And Gabrielle Delacour.”

Harry shook his head. “Not into women any more.”

“And Charlie Weasley.”

“Wait, Charlie?” Harry’s head came up. “Charlie’s really hot.”

Draco growled a little and grabbed hold of the waistband of Harry’s trousers, jerking him back between his legs – which, as far as Draco was concerned, was exactly where he belonged! “No,” he said firmly. “I can keep you satisfied.”

He could feel Harry’s smile against his skin. “So you’re going to keep me?”

“I might,” Draco said loftily, but by Harry’s laugh, he could tell he was fooling no one.


End file.
